


Charm

by prairiecrow



Series: Gumshoe AU [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Established Relationship, Gangsters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-08
Updated: 2012-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elim Garak is not an easy man to please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the 1920's DS9 "Gumshoe AU" that airandangels and blossom_morphine started on Tumblr, in which Garak is a gangster and Julian is a brash young doctor who's set up a public health clinic on Skid Row.

The candlelight was warm and flattering on the expensive tableware and white damask tablecloth, the wine (brought in from his own cellars) excellent, the food exquisitely prepared and punctiliously served. Garak would have expected no less: Chez Promenade was one of the most prestigious French restaurants in a city full of master chefs, which was why he patronized it so frequently. But this evening his pleasure was not focussed on the flawlessness of the dining experience, because Julian Bashir was seated across from him, that sweet slender body clad in an expensive tuxedo Garak had crafted with his own hands, those brilliant hazel eyes alight with earnest conviction as he debated the relative (and complicated) merits of Voltaire versus Nietzsche.  
  
He was speaking right now, in fact, a rapid flow of easy (but never ill-considered) words in fluent French, charmingly accented with the slight drawl of Lyons oddly combined with a lingering British inflection. The overall effect was utterly endearing and Garak, replying in perfect Parisian, made no effort to conceal his fond smiles when the darling boy had rare difficulties in finding exactly the right word, and gently supplied suggestions when necessary. The pretty doctor learned fast — he'd only known Garak, and been speaking with him in that language on a frequent basis, for a few months, and already he was almost up to Garak's range of vocabulary: once he heard a word and comprehended its meaning he never seemed to forget it. It was a remarkable trait among the many he possessed, and one of the reasons that they were sitting here now, enjoying a gourmet meal before repairing upstairs to a luxury suite to savour more carnal delights.   
  
It was all very gratifying, and Garak wasn't quite used to it yet. He'd had so few paramours in his nearly five decades of adult life that he could count them up on one hand and still have fingers left over. It wasn't that he couldn't have found amorous company if he'd wanted it — he possessed a combination of several factors, money and power and inherent charisma among them, which would, he flattered himself, have drawn almost anyone to his side if he put the effort into the pursuit, and in fact had already attracted several individuals in whom he had no interest whatsoever. No,  _procuring_  a lover wouldn't have been the issue: the trouble was that there were so few people in the world that Garak found attractive in a way that was truly fulfilling. Certainly he'd seen his share of beautiful people of both sexes, healthy and lively young men and women (for both youth and loveliness were things that drew his attention), but on those occasions when he'd subjected them to closer inspection he'd found that they were disappointing in other ways — dull-witted, incurious, venal, vulgar — that ruled them out as bedmates. Garak wasn't afraid to admit that he was picky when it came to details, and choosy about who was worthy of being admitted into his inner life.   
  
In short, most people, no matter how pleasing to the eyes, simply weren't worth the bother — or the risk. Someone taken so deeply into Garak's inner circle could possibly be turned by his enemies; he doubted any of them would be stupid enough to try to abduct a man or woman under his personal protection, considering that he'd already proven himself more than willing to spill plenty of blood if he was crossed, but such betrayal could be potentially lethal. So in addition to possessing superlative physical virtues, the individual in question would have to display the qualities that truly mattered: they'd have to be be intelligent enough to keep up with him, witty enough to engage him, brave enough to stand up to him (how boring it would be to never be challenged!), strong enough to win his respect, and loyal to him beyond question.  
  
Gazing at Julian's smooth face, golden and dusky in the candlelight, Garak smiled a slight and secret smile — for there he was, against all the odds. Perfection itself, wrapped up in one bright and beautiful package.   
  
Seeing his expression, Julian paused in his discourse and smiled in return. "Would you care to let me in on the joke?" he teased.  
  
Garak considered spinning him a tale of a hardened career criminal who'd found himself completely besotted with a virtuous innocent boy, a vision of loveliness from another world. Instead he said: "No joke, my dear — merely satisfaction with the pleasure of your company. Please, do continue!" He infused the curve of his lips with a hint of sexual smoulder and relished the slight guilty blush that tinted those high cheekbones, the hunger visibly awakening within. Bright, and beautiful, and perceptive,  _and_  marvellously sensual: truly, a companion beyond compare! "You know how I adore  _talking_  with you for hours…"  
  
THE END


End file.
